


stain

by marmolita



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: (the world may never know), Dubious Consent, Fuck Or Die, M/M, OR IS IT, One-Sided Attraction, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pre-Canon, Sex Pollen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-13 08:14:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16888887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marmolita/pseuds/marmolita
Summary: introductory, I hope you enjoy this!  I had fun writing it.  Sex pollen will always be the best trope.WARNINGS: dubious consent of the sex pollen variety, age gap, authority gap, and discussion of the dubious consent to show just how dubious it is.





	stain

**Author's Note:**

  * For [introductory](https://archiveofourown.org/users/introductory/gifts).



> introductory, I hope you enjoy this! I had fun writing it. Sex pollen will always be the best trope.
> 
> WARNINGS: dubious consent of the sex pollen variety, age gap, authority gap, and discussion of the dubious consent to show just how dubious it is.

It was supposed to be a routine training exercise: a quick trip outside the wall, take down a couple of beasts that were causing trouble for the locals, maybe a daemon if they were still there by nightfall. Something to give the Marshal a chance to assess new recruits' capabilities in a one-on-one setting. _Every Crownsguard goes through this,_ Clarus had said. _It'll be your turn next._

Ignis had been caught between excitement and anxiety for the whole month leading up to it, not sure if he was more eager to spend time alone with Cor, who he'd admired for years in more ways than he cared to admit, or more nervous that he would fail to impress him.

It wasn't supposed to turn out like this.

"Damn it," Cor mutters, running a hand over his face as he hangs up his phone. "Niffs have a blockade set up. They can't extract us for another 24 hours, and there's nowhere around here that carries the right kind of remedy."

"Oh," Ignis says in a small voice.

Cor looks at him, then looks away. "We should find shelter. Get to a haven, at least, if we can't find anything else. You're not in any shape to fight if a daemon finds us."

 _And you are?_ Ignis wants to ask, but he holds his tongue. "Alright," he says instead, getting to his feet.

*

By the time they make it to a haven, it's getting to be difficult to walk. He's hot all over, starting to sweat through his underclothes, and his cock is hard and aching where it's trapped in his still-new Crownsguard-issued trousers. He took off his jacket a while back, and couldn't help noticing that Cor did as well. As they trudge up to the smooth stone of the haven, Ignis can't take his eyes off the spread of Cor's shoulders and the way his shirt clings to the shifting muscles of his back. Not that he hadn't been just as drawn to watching Cor before getting hit with a face full of magic monster breath, but at least then he could _pretend_ he wasn't that interested.

Now, he stares long enough that he doesn't even realize that Cor has stopped walking and turned to talk to him.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"I said we'd better make camp. There's emergency gear stashed in His Majesty's armiger, but I could use your help to set it up."

Ignis tears his gaze away from Cor's mouth, but it just lands on his hips instead, trying to puzzle out whether he's seeing a fold of the cloth or whether Cor is just as hard and aching as he is. "Of course," he says, blinking as Cor materializes a tent, some blankets, and a duffel bag in a shower of blue sparks.

They get the tent set up somehow, though later Ignis will have no idea how it happened. There are granola bars and water bottles in the duffel bag, and Cor orders Ignis to eat and drink. It's strange how unaffected Cor seems, when Ignis himself is barely holding it together, his heart racing and his breathing uneven. He can't stop staring, either, his mind filling with inappropriate thoughts about his commanding officer. They're thoughts he's had before, in his weaker moments.

Perhaps Cor is less affected because he's not interested in men. Ignis has never seen him show interest in anyone, as a matter of fact, though he assumes that's just because Cor is nothing if not entirely professional. Ignis, on the other hand, has only recently emerged from the hormonal hell of his teenage years, and at twenty he's still on a bit of a hair trigger when it comes to attractive men. He hasn't had many dalliances, but the few there have been have all been drawn from his fellow Crownsguard.

It doesn't help to think about them now, though, not when he's already struggling to keep his hands somewhere decent and his gaze off of the Marshal's muscular torso. Ignis dutifully eats his granola bar and drinks his water, though he's not hungry or thirsty -- not for food or water, at any rate. He can't help watching as Cor does the same, admiring the way his Adam's apple bobs when he lifts his water bottle and takes a long swig. Ignis is licking his lips when Cor turns back to face him, and he quickly tries to school his expression.

"You understand what this poison does, don't you?" Cor asks with a sigh.

"I do," Ignis replies. He's read all of the training manuals and studied zoology, daemonology, and magic. He knows that the toxin that Kylia expel in their breath can vary from mild to fatal depending on the dosage inhaled. He knows that it causes debilitating sexual arousal. He knows that in about seventy percent of cases, masturbation is sufficient to ease the symptoms until the body manages to filter the toxin out of the system, which takes about twelve hours.

It's the other thirty percent he's worried about.

Cor nods. "We've only got one tent. You take it. I'll stay out here by the fire and give you some privacy -- you took a more direct hit than I did."

"Marshal, that's--" Ignis begins to protest, but then thinks better of it. If Cor wants him to go in the tent, then that's what he'll do. "--that's kind of you. I take it you're feeling less affected than I am?"

Cor looks at him indirectly for a long moment. "Don't worry about me," he says eventually. "Go take care of yourself."

Ignis nods and heads into the tent. It gives the illusion of privacy, but he knows that the thin walls won't muffle even the smallest sounds, and Cor knows-- Cor is expecting--

Well, it's not going to be a secret anyway. Ignis hastily opens his fly and gets a hand around himself, biting back the noise that threatens to escape from his throat. He fumbles in his bag and manages to find a towel and a bottle of hand lotion. It hardly takes thirty seconds before he's coming onto the towel, his slick hand moving rapidly over his cock and his breath hitching sharply.

His cock doesn't get soft. Cor is still just on the other side of the canvas wall of the tent.

It's going to be a long night.

*

Four hours later, Ignis's arm feels about ready to fall off. He can't jerk off anymore, he just can't. His cock aches, having only gone soft for a few short minutes after each orgasm, and the time between them has been dragging longer and longer. He's been at it for over an hour this time and no matter what he does, he feels like he's just teetering on the edge and can't quite make it over.

Ignis is well-known for his composure and strategic thinking, but right now he kind of just wants to cry. This was a training mission, and he wanted-- gods, he wanted to impress Cor. And now he's stuck here in this shitty situation and he can't even get himself off.

There's a shuffling outside the tent, and he can see the silhouette of Cor's body moving closer. "You okay in there?" Cor asks.

"I-- I'm--" Ignis takes a breath, trying to keep it together. If Cor can be calm and collected then so can he. "I don't believe 'okay' is a word I'd apply to this situation."

There's silence for a minute, then Cor says in a strained voice, "How long has it been since the last time you came?"

Ignis swallows hard. "An hour, perhaps more." He wipes sweat from his forehead, and takes a drink of water from the bottle he'd brought in with him.

"Shit," Cor mutters, and Ignis's stomach drops. "I'm coming in." He scrambles to pull a blanket over his lap, and even the rough fabric makes the ache in his cock nearly unbearable. The tent is unzipped, and then the flap lifts, and Ignis watches helplessly as Cor ducks inside. His shirt is maybe a little messy, maybe a little untucked, and Ignis can't help thinking _he was masturbating out there_. He bites down on his lip as the thought makes a drop of precome well up, wetting the blanket.

"The books I read didn't mention enough details to know if this is to be expected," Ignis says. He must look a sight: naked and sweaty, his hair starting to fall out of its careful style, cheeks flushed, and a blanket in his lap to cover his raging erection. His wrists and arms ache as he tries to reposition himself to look a little more presentable.

"It's getting harder to get off for you," Cor says. _Can't get any harder than this_ , Ignis thinks, holding back a snort. He nods, and Cor continues, "That means you're not going to be able to take care of this on your own."

Ignis stares at him. "What do you mean?"

"Most of the time, you . . . jerk off a bunch, and each time it takes longer to get hard again, but it's easy to get off. If it's difficult to get off, that's a sign that your body isn't responding well. There are only two things that will help."

"Oh," Ignis says stupidly, "the thirty percent."

"The what?"

"My book said that in thirty percent of cases, additional treatment is required."

"Treatment, huh?" Cor says. "Yeah. We can't buy a remedy, and we don't have a hospital, so we're going to have to do this the old-fashioned way." He looks away. "If you'll let me help you."

Ignis licks his lips, his gaze already being drawn away from Cor's face and toward the rest of his body. He forces himself to pay attention. What was Cor saying? Something about doing it the 'old-fashioned way.' "Alright," Ignis says, "what's the old-fashioned way?"

Cor scratches his chin, meets Ignis's eyes, then looks away again. "You have to have sex."

Ignis blinks a few times. He can't possibly have heard that right. "With you?"

Cor sits down with a sigh. "If you don't, there's an 85% fatality rate. If you do, that drops down to 5%. It's your choice, of course. I wouldn't force you into something like this."

Heart racing, Ignis can only stare dumbly at him. Of course he wants to have sex with Cor. He's wanted to have sex with Cor since he realized that he wanted to have sex with _anyone_. But he's not the only one who's being affected here. "It feels more like I'm forcing you," he says. "Are you even-- are you even interested in men?"

"Ignis, after inhaling that damned toxin I'm interested in anything that moves," Cor says bitterly. _Oh,_ Ignis thinks. He must show his reaction on his face because Cor quickly adds, "Not that you're not, I mean, you're a good-looking . . ." He sighs and looks Ignis in the eye. "I'm making a mess of this. Do you want to do it or do you want to take your chances with the toxin?"

"I want to do it," Ignis says, probably too quickly. He's not sure he can make it through this without Cor realizing that it's not just the toxin that's making him want him. But right now, that doesn't matter as much as the insistent throb of his cock, the fever making him sweat, and the way his body is screaming to be touched. It's now or never, and there's no way out, so he pushes the blanket down and reveals himself. Cor's eyes move down to his lap and fix there; he licks his lips, and Ignis's cock jerks.

Maybe it's that or maybe it's something else, Ignis will never know, but Cor lurches into action. He strips off his clothes and Ignis eagerly watches as Cor's broad chest is revealed, then his muscular thighs and his thick, hard cock. Ignis is moving before he even realizes it, crawling over the blankets and the towel until he's opening his mouth and sucking that cock down as far as he can.

Cor gasps, his hand coming up to the side of Ignis's face. To stop him, maybe, but he doesn't, only settles his hand there. Ignis isn't good at sucking cock. He's only done it a few times, and he's sure he has a lot to learn, but the way arousal is thrumming through his body he can't resist his desire. He bobs his head, gets his tongue involved, and he thinks he's just starting to get the hang of it when he's surprised by the sudden flood of come in his mouth. He chokes a little, swallows some of it, coughs. As he pulls back another pulse of come hits his chin, and Ignis can only think disbelievingly _I just made Cor Leonis come._

"Shit," Cor says. "Sorry."

Ignis wants to demur, but he's too incredibly turned on by what just happened that he can't help reaching for his own cock and roughly jerking himself, forgetting for a minute how useless that's been for the past hour and a half.

"Let me," Cor says, wiping the come off Ignis's chin with his thumb before reaching down to take hold of Ignis's cock. Ignis bites back a moan; it feels so much _better_ to have Cor touching him than it felt to touch himself. His cock is still slick with lotion and Cor's hand moves smoothly over it, quickly ramping him up until he's shaking, teetering on the edge of the line he's been unable to cross.

Somehow, the fact that it's Cor's hand on him makes a difference. Ignis comes hard, unable to muffle his cry, sweet relief rushing through his body.

"There you go," Cor is murmuring to him when he regains his senses. He's slumped on his knees, leaning against Cor's shoulder, and Cor is still stroking him, working him through the last of his climax. "Feel a little better?"

Ignis tries to speak, but nothing comes out. He clears his throat, then says, "Yes, thank you." He forces himself to pull away from Cor and get the towel to wipe up the mess with. Cor's eyes follow him the whole time, and by the time he's done he's already hard again.

"It works best if it's penetrative," Cor says carefully, when Ignis is looking down at his erection in dismay.

"I see," Ignis says. He's only had penetrative sex twice before, but he has a dildo tucked away in his bedside drawer back home that he's used quite a lot. Cor's not hard again yet, not quite, but he's on his way there. He hands the lotion over and says, "This is all I had in my bag."

Cor takes it and nods, flipping the bottle over to read the ingredients. Ignis watches him for a moment, then realizes he ought to be getting himself ready. Hands and knees would be the easiest, the most detached position. But Ignis is never going to get another chance to have sex with Cor, and he can't quite help himself from wanting to fulfill a fantasy he's had for ages, so he lays down on the blanket on his back and spreads his legs.

Cor doesn't say anything, only pours out some lotion and slicks up his fingers. "You done this before?" he asks.

"Yes," Ignis replies. Then, because he's too curious for his own good, "Have you?"

Cor only nods and moves between Ignis's legs. Their eyes meet, an unreadable expression on Cor's face, then he looks away and Ignis jerks at the feeling of a wet finger probing his ass. Cor's other hand settles on Ignis's knee, the touch probably intended to calm him, but only turning him on even more. He lets Cor finger him open, breathing hard and trying to keep from rocking his hips up into the touch, but by the time Cor's got three fingers inside him he's desperate to be fucked.

"That's enough," he gasps, "I'm ready." He chances a look at Cor, and Cor looks like he _wants_ to ask if Ignis is certain, but has decided to trust him.

"Tell me if it's too much." Cor's voice is a little unsteady, and Ignis isn't sure whether he feels bad about it or victorious.

When that thick cock pushes inside him, Ignis bites his tongue to keep from moaning. It feels so _good_ , better than he ever imagined. The emergency supplies didn't include condoms, so he can feel every hot inch of Cor's cock as it slides past his rim. It stokes the fire in his veins and he arches in pleasure, reaching to try to stroke himself off again.

Cor grabs his wrist, then pins both his hands over his head. "It'll be more effective if you let me do it," he says.

Ignis is sure he must look a mess by now, but he's beyond caring. He summons all of his resolve to look Cor in the eye and say, "Then do it."

The first thrust is slow, like Cor is trying to see how much he can take, but he picks up his pace quickly. Ignis tries to keep quiet, but as Cor's cock begins pounding into him, he can't quite manage it. The little sounds punched out of him with each thrust escalate into breathy moans, and he wraps his legs around Cor's waist and raises his hips to meet him. It's not long before Ignis comes again, hot and messy between them, just from the friction of Cor's belly moving against him and the incessant hammering on his prostate.

Cor starts to slow down, but Ignis uses his legs to pull him in again. He can tell that this isn't over by the frenzied heat running through his body, and he wants -- he _needs_ \-- to feel Cor come inside him. So he presses his heels into the small of Cor's back and pulls him down, until Cor starts to fuck him with purpose again.

The build up is slower this time, better. Ignis is starting to lose his grip on reality, his mind clouded by the intensity of having Cor's hard length inside him. His intent to stay quiet and composed is long gone, leaving him panting and writhing in pleasure, anything to get _more_. Cor is breathing hard now, sweat trickling down his face, and Ignis forgets himself entirely and leans up to kiss him.

There's a moment where Cor freezes, but then he's kissing back, swallowing Ignis's moans as he fucks him harder. Ignis is hard again, his cock trapped between their bodies, slippery with the come from his earlier orgasm. "Please," Ignis gasps when their lips part, and Cor reaches between them to stroke him off again.

Ignis comes a second time with Cor's cock inside him and Cor's hand on him, and after that, everything fades into a haze of friction and pleasure and the unending, driving need to come. He's aware of shifting positions, of Cor coming inside him, fingering him to another orgasm, Cor's wet mouth against his own and Cor's body covering him completely. He thinks he falls asleep somewhere in there, or maybe passes out, and comes to his senses with Cor still fucking him. Or fucking him again, he's not entirely sure. He comes, and comes again, and again, and Cor fucks him through it every time. Minutes go by, hours, until Ignis passes out completely.

*

Ignis wakes up slowly. His body is sore, and for a moment, he can't figure out why. He was on a training mission with Cor. They were fighting something, but his sleep-addled mind can't quite remember what. He rolls over with a groan, then winces at the ache in his thighs, hips, and ass. The scent of sex fills his nose when he takes a breath, and he remembers.

He sits bolt upright, then regrets it when the added pressure sends an ache up his spine. He's in the tent, and he's alone, covered with a blanket. Patting around him in the blankets, he locates his glasses and puts them on, only to find the inside of the tent looking just as it would if this-- if last night-- had never happened.

There's sound outside the tent. Cor must be out there, waiting for him to wake up, and giving him the illusion of privacy. Ignis's cheeks burn as he remembers bits and pieces of what happened the previous night. He doesn't remember all the details, but he feels like he'll remember the hot length of Cor's cock in his ass until his dying day.

He considers curling back up under the blanket and going back to sleep for perhaps the rest of his life. But Noctis needs him, and they're due to be picked up at . . . some point, he's lost track of time entirely. He's going to have to face this sooner or later -- face Cor, and the fact that he made Cor . . . he made Cor fuck him. Ignis takes a deep breath. He's still naked, and he pulls on his clothes carefully and methodically, then takes the time to fix his hair before crawling out of the tent.

The sunlight is bright enough to hurt his eyes, and he squints and has to look down at the ground to try to focus. His head is throbbing along with his ass -- an after-effect of the toxin, no doubt. When he blinks the spots out of his eyes, he sees Cor, sitting on the other side of the haven, watching him.

"Morning," Cor says, getting up and walking over to him. There's a shatter of blue crystal, and Cor holds out a potion. "In case you're, uh. Sore."

Ignis accepts it, certain his face is bright red. "I--" he begins, then stops, uncertain exactly what he needs to say. "I'm sorry," he settles on, "and thank you. I know you weren't-- that you didn't want to--" Cor frowns, but Ignis plows onward. "I know you didn't want to have sex with me, and I'm sorry that you had to."

Cor looks away, a faint blush high on his own cheekbones. "I'm just glad you're okay," he says, which isn't much of a reassurance at all. "Not like you wanted it any more than I did."

Ignis already felt terrible, but if anything, that makes him feel worse. He did want it. Not like that, but . . . he wanted Cor, wanted Cor to fuck him. It must show on his face, because Cor's eyebrows raise, and his lips pinch at the edges. "Right," Ignis says. "Of course."

Cor looks at him for a long, uncomfortable moment. Finally, he says, "The van should be here to pick us up in about two hours. There's a stream a little ways down the hill if you want to wash up."

"Yes," Ignis says, aware of the dried come on his skin underneath his clothes. "I should-- I should do that. Thank you."

He starts down the hill, but Cor calls his name and stops him. "Don't blame yourself for this," Cor says. "It was shitty luck. You're a good soldier."

". . . thank you." Their eyes meet, and Cor nods at him. Ignis nods back, and continues toward the stream. He'll be able to wash the physical evidence off his body, but he has a feeling he won't be able to wash away the stain of this experience for a long, long time.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [redacted] for beta and encouragement!


End file.
